


You don't have the rights to open Pandora's box~

by Eredhael



Category: No Fandom
Genre: Crying, Depression, Gen, Suicidal Thoughts
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-05
Updated: 2020-11-08
Packaged: 2021-03-09 02:54:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 511
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27407644
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eredhael/pseuds/Eredhael
Summary: This is just an outlet used to fight my thoughts. Do whatever you want with it.
Comments: 2
Kudos: 1





	1. November the fourth

**Author's Note:**

> First day.

Today, I have asked myself if living wouldn't be prejudicial for others. Technically, as my life is a complete waste, we can all say that my death could be beneficial for a lot of persons. No more need to worry over me. No more need to reason me, stupid Ere, out of suicidal thoughts. No more time wasted over my non-existent potential. Anyway, how the fuck someone can look over me and see a friend ? I am a freaking leech, the burden that brings the whole group down to the abyss. When you say that I am a survivor, you are wrong. You are the only survivor. You can't seem to see my hypocrisy, my masks, my hatred. I am, what we call, a piece of shit, I don't deserve to live. A survivor can go through. I can't. Wasn't ever able to do something out of my life. Potential... Was it even something to not throw to the trash when I was born ? Whining baby. Whining child. Whining teen. Whining adult. See ? No change. I am a just a constant. A Murphy law constant. I am just some weak crybaby that will never progress. No strength, stupid, weak, ugly. Only thing I can master is manipulation. Smile, smile, smile, never cry. Until the night comes, masks broken, I cry until the end of the night. I will be better six feet under, hidden to the eyes of the world. They don't have to suffer my sight.


	2. November the fifth

Why does this state of mind stay ? After all, I don't want it to stay. Every time my brain run freely, I can't contain it. Thoughts roaming, swirling, getting darker, darker, darker. After a while, all I can see around is black. How much I deserve to die. How much I am useless. How much I am a burden. Darkness comes in. No distraction. Roam, roam inside my brain... See ? Nothing. Hear ? Nothing. All I can see is every bad things around me. How much it's noisy around, how much it's not perfectly parallel, bringing in a lot of frustration. Making me angry, about being frustrated and angry. No, you can't argue around some petty things, no you can't be emotional, be logical. Why I cry ? I have no reasons to cry. No fucking reasons. I am just selfish. A selfish creature that is constantly angry, frustrated. Frustrating others over my outbursts. I can't even look like I am happy. I can't be a freaking burden anymore. I'll pay my coffin, so please, please shot me. Aim at me. Please shot. What have I say ?  
SHOT !


	3. November the sixth

Today is a good day, or at minima a classic one. Some dark thoughts but really sparse. It's been a while since I didn't get suicidal thoughts. I have finished my administration papers to make the university recognize my handicap. And I have news from my package. After weeks ! It's in France. If you didn't know, we are under lock-down, so the package couldn't arrive. So in total, less frustration and some good news. Today is good day.


End file.
